Yes, the silence of the water, the one that can be listened to and that understands almost everything in the turquoise of the morning, dense, light, the one that glides over the day.
*d’abord mis en ligne en février 2024 révisé en 2025
Archives de catégorie : prosepoem
#4180 prose poem
at dawn the froth of the day. Weighs on the shoulders of history. Once upon a time, then another. Sometimes, even the air is even heavy.
#4165 : prose poem
photo: Botanical Garden, Nelson, a duck projects itself into the light and its murky reflection attracts attention until it goes back into the shadow of the pond.
There she was, the old lady I would become, I said to myself, as I saw her every morning, resolved to walk about town with her shopping bag. She was there, then one day she wasn’t.
#4156 poetry
photo : Cable Bay, in spring
Because spring is also about storm and the rage of the wind, clouds and waves which muss up time
#4155 poetry
photo : Spring, in Nelson, and my new lens
We would talk a little from the eyes and the words would have the courage to tell our travel wishes. There would be silences that would be light and then we would say goodbye, for the last time? we didn’t know